


Holy as a Saint

by Runescout



Category: Original Work
Genre: Gen, Original Fiction, Original Universe, Sad Ending
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-03
Updated: 2017-07-03
Packaged: 2018-11-22 18:19:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,532
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11385753
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Runescout/pseuds/Runescout
Summary: This is my first work of literature, feedback is appreciated





	Holy as a Saint

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first work of literature, feedback is appreciated

It was early morning when David heard it--the cough of wet-lung. That cough was the herald of death for any family, and if the church found out,the town would be doomed. David rushed downstairs to his son’s room. He saw Joseph sitting up on his bed with fear in his soft brown eyes.

“Oh son, was that you?” David asked as he strove to keep his voice level.

“Please dad tell me it’s not the sickness, please.” There were tears in his eyes.

David walked across and sat beside his son. He couldn’t tell his son that he was going to die. His mind raced for options. I’m the town healer, he thought, I can save him and the church need never know. He didn’t know what caused the sickness but he knew how to stop a cough and bring down a fever; he would figure the rest out later. 

“No Joseph, you are going to be fine. It’s not the plague, you just have a cold. A normal, curable cold,” he lied.

Relief spread across Joseph’s face. “So I’m not going to die?”

“No, no you aren’t.” David couldn’t look his son in the eye. “Go back to sleep now, we have to get up early to collect the herbs for this week and I’ll need you well rested.”

As David closed the door to his son’s room, a tear hit the floor. He couldn’t do this. He couldn’t bury his son, nor could he bring the healing church down on Briston. He had grown up here, and couldn’t stand to see it burn. 

David had seen three towns “cleansed” in his life. It began three years ago when the wet-lung plague cut through half the country. David couldn’t decide what was worse--drowning seven leagues from the closest body of water or how the plague was ended. A group of zealots claiming to be disciples of Errador, god of healing, started burning townships with the plague. It stopped the spread, but not everyone burned was sick. It had gotten so bad that if they even suspected there was plague in the town they came with oil and torch, and your town was reduced to rubble and smoke. There had just been an inspection a month ago, so David was reasonably sure he could find a way to make Joseph well again before there was another. He decided to stop fretting about this so that he could get some rest; he needed his rest if he was going to cure his son.

 

Christina was awake when he got back to bed, blonde hair messy and blue eyes tight with worry.

“What’s wrong, David? Is Joseph okay?” 

“Christina, he has it. He has the sickness.”

Christina clutched her hands over her mouth, tears glistening in her eyes. 

“We have to leave. We have to leave town. They’ll burn it down around us,” Christina cried.  
David thought the three towns he had seen “cleansed” in his life. It began three years ago when the wet-lung plague cut through half the country. David couldn’t decide what was worse--drowning seven leagues from the closest body of water or how the plague was ended. A group of zealots claiming to be disciples of Errador, god of healing, started burning townships with the plague. It stopped the spread, but not everyone burned was sick. It had gotten so bad that if they even suspected there was plague in the town they came with oil and torch, and your town was reduced to rubble and smoke. There had just been an inspection a month ago, so David was reasonably sure he could find a way to make Joseph well again before there was another. He decided to stop fretting about this so that he could get some rest; he needed his rest if he was going to cure his son.

“We can’t leave; I’m an important person, you know this. If I leave, not only will normal sickness take these people, the church will know something is wrong and hunt us down and burn this place.”

“What will we do?” she asked.

“I can hide his cough and other symptoms. If he doesn’t survive, I can lie to the villagers and say he was taken by a minor sickness, no one will suspect anything.”

“David, I love you.”

“I love you too, Christina.”

As David lay down, Christina embraced him. He could feel her tears oh his shoulder. He gave her a reassuring squeeze and kissed her forehead. He was worried, but confident in his skills as a healer. He would save his son.

He woke some few hours later, but he still felt tired. David knew it would be very difficult to find hollyhock in bloom this late in the year, but he had to try. He had enough snapdragon and melwort for a couple months, but nothing would stop the cough like hollyhock syrup. He laced up his boots and went down to wake Joseph, but found him already packing herb pouches and wrapping up food for the trip.

“Well you are certainly up early, Joseph” David whispered. 

“I didn’t sleep. I was too worried.”

“There’s nothing to worry about son; I told you it’s just a cold. Now, tell me, what do you prescribe to a person with a common cold?” David asked his son.

While Joseph listed off every common herbal cure for a cold, David checked the provisions his son had packed. Seeing everything in order, David waited as the boy finished listing all the possible treatments for the cold.

“Good, you have it down perf-”. He was cut off by the sound of a bell. His blood turned to ice and the color drained from his face.

“No, not today, not this day.” David swore.

“What’s the matter, father? What are those bells?”

“Those, son, are the bells of Errador. They are rung by the healing church,” quavered David. 

“Why are you so worried, last they were here nothing bad happened.”

“Last time you weren’t sick. If they see you, bad things will happen. You must hide, in the cellar. Go hide in the empty crate under the stair and for the love of all that is good, stay quiet.”

Christina came down the stairs looking frightened. Before she could say anything, David told her his plan.

“We will say that he has gone away to apprentice in Therton. Hopefully they won’t inquire further.”

“David, this isn’t going to work. They will know something is wrong. You are the town healer, why not apprentice your own son?”

“What would you have me do, woman?! If they see him, they will kill us all!” yelled David.  
Christina began to cry. David relented and held her close, stroking her hair as she wept. “Stay here, I’ll go talk to them.”

He left the house and went out to the priest. David noticed men spread out across the edges of the town. The priest in the town square was clad in the white and sanguine robes of the church. He had a long face and raven hair, with a small, piglike nose pressed in above pouchy lips, which seemed to be set in a permanent frown. His beady eyes scanned the houses, searching for signs of plague. The bastard already had a lit torch with him. 

“My name is Father Steven, of The Glorious Healing Church of Errador, I will be inspecting each house for plague sign. Please have all house members on the porch when I arrive at your respective houses.” He spoke in a high nasally voice with the strange accent of the east.

David’s spirits lifted. This was going to work. All he had to do was carry on for long enough to get Father Steven out of the village. 

The day was going well, as the Father went from house to house he found no sign of plague. Last was his house, David’s house. The Priest looked in each room, including the cellar, and he passed right by Joseph.

“Everything seems in order, I’m going to Kriegg next and I hear it’s beautiful this time of yea-”

Then came a cough from the cellar.

It happened so fast. Father Steven’s robes billowed out around him as he ran down the stairs. He came back up gripping Joseph by the arm, fury etched into every line of his face. 

“What, pray tell, is this?!” hissed the priest as he threw Joseph to the floor.

“I can explain-”

“No, no you cannot, and you will burn.”

Father steven rushed out the door, and at the top of his lungs he bellowed, “THIS TOWN SHALL BE CLEANSED!”

Oil was thrown on houses. The smell of pitch and burning flesh permeated the air. The men descended on the houses, swords drawn. Screams rent the air as families were slaughtered. Fathers and sons torn from the arms of mothers and wives. David looked on in horror, knowing that this was his fault. He could have prevented this, and now the whole town must pay. The first house began to burn, and the ember motes shone like stars as their world burned around them.


End file.
